Being mortal

“THERE’S been some changes in the Ash Wednesday ceremony.” That was the observation of one member of my staff. Last Wednesday, I saw him coming from the nearby Antipolo Cathedral. There was a sign of the Cross on his forehead from the mixture of ashes and oil placed by the priest.

I complimented him for his fidelity to this particular liturgical event in the Catholic Church. In this fastchanging world, it is comforting to know that there are traditions such as the solemn observance of Ash Wednesday that last.

My staff member shared an observation. He said that while the event has been a long-standing tradition, there has been one change. I asked what it was. He said he is referring to the words uttered by the priest as he puts ash on the faithful’s forehead.

“Today, the priest says, ‘Repent and believe the good news’,” he said. I asked what the words used in the past were. He answered that, in the past, the priest would say: “Remember, you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

I remember those words. Having studied in three Catholic schools, we were told by our religion and theology teachers that part of Ash Wednesday’s reflection is the reminder that we are mortal. We were made from dust and one day we shall return to dust.

“Remember, you are dust…” is part of that often-quoted Bible verse from the Book of Genesis. The first part of the verse goes: “By the sweat of your brow, you will eat your food until you return to the ground since from it you were taken.”

It is good to be reminded that we are mortal. We are human beings. Our mortal bodies will one day die.

The Biblical reminder is an invitation to humility.

Senior Pastor David Whitehead of the Grace Church of New York explains this well:

“It is a reminder that for all of the glories that we achieve in this life, there will come a day when dust reclaims us. We will stand before our Creator with none of our possessions; only our deeds will be with us. And before a holy and perfect God, whose deeds can stand?”

Even those who do not profess to be Christians believe in the value of that reminder.

For example, during the time of the great Roman Empire, Roman army generals returning victorious from major battles would be welcomed with grand parades. As adoring crowds heaped them with praises and showered them with flowers and confetti, a slave made to stand beside the general would keep whispering these words to him: “Memento Mori.” This is a Latin phrase which literally means, “Remember, you have to die.”

There was much wisdom behind the practice. It was commonly thought that the grandeur of the victory parade would sometimes lull the conquering general into the illusion that he is a god and that he is immortal.

One of the world’s greatest generals, Alexander the Great, is said to have kept those words close to his heart.

In his many victories in the battlefield, he made sure he heard those words. Before his death, he ordered that, at his funeral, his hands should be made to hang on the side. This was to convey his belief in the truth that, in death, we carry nothing to the next life.

I shared my view with my staff that the words, “Repent and believe the Good News” are an important assurance to one who hears the counsel that we are “dust” and “to dust we shall return.”

After all, when one knows that he shall die, what can he hold on?

He can only hold on to “repent” and to “believe the Good News.”

“Repent” is our response to the “Good News.” The “Good News” is what makes being mortal meaningful. It is the assurance that there is something much, much better that awaits us after we leave our mortal bodies in this chaotic world.

The idea that we will one day “return to dust” makes us laugh at the many things we do in the life.

We laugh at our obsession with physical beauty.

We laugh at our attachment to wealth, fame, and power.

We laugh at our addiction to praise.

We laugh because we realize that all these are nothing more than human follies.

They won’t last. They have “no forever.” We cannot take them to the next life.

Yet, we invest our time, energies, and resources in acquiring them.

Today, the first Sunday of Lent in the liturgical calendar of our Catholic brethren, we join our readers in praying for the grace to fully understand and live out the words of Genesis – that we are “dust” and that “to dust” we shall return.

As we do so, may we come to distinguish between what is essential and what is mere baggage.

May our understanding of our m o r t a l i t y a l s o h e l p u s b e k i n d e r, gentler, and more loving towards one another.

A blessed Sunday to all our fellow mortals.